Purgatory
by whitefire
Summary: Jarod is captured at the end of the third season finale....
1. Part One

Purgatory Part I Purgatory 

*Author's note: takes place at the end of the third season finale where Jarod is captured. Sorry NBC and TnT... 

Purgatory 

BANG! A shot rang out through the humid air that rushed past him as he flew across the road in a desperate, futile race against time. He leaned forwards on the motorcycle, weaving to avoid the shots. Another shot followed, and a third. The back tire exploded and he tumbled onto the unforgiving pavement, the impact forced the air from his chest. As the tar burned across his skin, he knew that this race was finished; and lost. He struggled to his knees as a car full of the despised hunters swerved in front of him. Brigitte hopped gleefully out of the car, her gun drawn, with Lyle in pursuit. Jarod looked sadly up at the pair and gave up his pointless attempt to rise. Brigitte spun the lollipop in her mouth. She smiled with childish joy at the sight of Jarod's bruised and broken body lying in front of her. The helicopter landed neatly behind them. Raines walked purposely around him. Jarod glared at the pale corpse with white-hot hatred. 

"Welcome back to the Centre, Jarod," he said, not even trying to contain his sickening satisfaction. 

Jarod lowered his head, excepting his inevitable fate. 

The sweepers that flanked Raines sprung forward and lifted him up to his feet dragging him towards the helicopter. They paused when Raines approached Jarod, leaning his ashen face close. "Welcome back to your hell." 

The sweepers pulled him into the helicopter, and handcuffed him to the handle of the chair where they had tossed him. Jarod passed out. 

Jarod felt a warm, thick cloth pressing against his face. The loud beat if a helicopter drowned out his moans of pain. He could not breathe; he started to panic. He felt extremely disoriented. Where was he? What had happened? Someone pulled his head back by his hair. He faced a huge and powerful-looking sweeper. Sam. He shouted something to him but, over the drone of the helicopter and the pounding of his head, Jarod could not make it out. When Sam let go of him, he fell forward. Sam grabbed his hair again, snapping his head back. "Stand up!" He ordered and released him. Jarod fell to the floor cradling his neck. He coughed weakly and raised his head. Lyle crouched in front of him clasping his hands. When Lyle reached out to Jarod, he jerked backwards in surprise, sending spasms of pain down his back. "Stand up," Lyle said in his spidery voice. Jarod lashed out at him weakly. Lyle agilely caught his arm mid-swing, pulled him up, and spun him around. Lyle bent Jarod's arm back until he cried out. Jarod shuttered and tried to pull his arm free. Lyle flicked a knife out from his pocket and slit it across the pretender's arm. Jarod twisted in agony and squeezed his eyes shut. "Please," he whispered, "Please stop." 

"That's it, Jarod, I want to hear you beg. Beg you captor to not hurt you." 

Jarod bowed his head sadly. Lyle released his arm and turned Jarod so he faced him. A fine stream of blood trickled down his arm, soaking into his torn shirt. "You will be back at the Centre soon," Jarod moved slightly, "Shhh, stop it, there's no changing that Jarod. You will be under my direction. I want you to follow all my instruction, no matter what I tell you to do." 

"I'll never help you," Jarod spat. 

"Oh, I think you will, Jarod. You don't want me to hurt Daddy or the boy, do you?" 

"They escaped." 

Lyle laughed mysteriously. 

When the helicopter landed on the pristine lawn near the Centre, several sweepers surrounded it. Sam pulled Jarod out and into the arms of the sweepers. "Bring him inside," Lyle ordered over the whirring of the blades. Jarod weakly fought against the people dragging him towards a set of metal doors. They hurriedly pushed him through, despite his attempts. A shiver ran down Jarod's spine, the cool air not entirely the cause. The double doors lead to a dim hallway. At the end of the hall sat an elevator. They entered the elevator with Lyle and Sam. Lyle's gloved hand pressed the round white button that read: "SL-27." Jarod shifted nervously between the two sweepers holding him. The movement seemed to give Lyle an idea. "Okay, Jarod, don't want to go yet?" He stopped the elevator's closing doors. "Out," he barked and stepped back into the hallway. The three sweepers followed with Jarod in tow. 

"I think that the rest of the Centre should know you're here." 

They marched down another hallway, which lead them into a comfortable looking lobby. Dozens of people were walking around going off on their business; some giving strange looks at Lyle. Others, that seemed to recognize Jarod, started whispering excitedly among each other. Lyle stopped in the middle of the lobby. "Attention everyone!" He shouted and beckoned the sweepers forward. They dragged Jarod to Lyle. People around them stopped and looked expectedly at Lyle who grabbed Jarod and held him tightly. He turned so everyone could see as he spoke. Jarod lowered his head shamefully. He went limp, submitting to Lyle's control; he hated himself for it. Lyle continued. 

"We are back in business!" 

Those who had seemed to recognize Jarod started to clap, soon others followed, and eventually everyone was cheering. Lyle lifted Jarod's head to face the people. He whispered into his ear. "They're cheering for you, Jarod." 

A silent tear slipped down Jarod's face. 

Lyle spent several hours parading the humiliated pretender around the Centre. Jarod's body ached from the crash and he was exhausted from struggling with the sweepers when Lyle finally dragged him into Mr. Parker's office. Mr. Parker did not speak for several minutes; he just stared at Jarod, thinking. Jarod gratefully sat down in the chair across from Mr. Parker. Lyle cleared his throat. Finally Mr. Parker spoke. 

"Good work, son." 

Lyle seemed annoyed at his lack of reaction. He was about to say so when Mr. Parker silenced him. 

"You may leave, I would like to talk with Jarod alone." 

Lyle stormed out of the room. 

Mr. Parker turned his attention back to Jarod who was looking around the room muttering. 

"Glad you're back." Jarod kept muttering, but shifted his gaze to Mr. Parker. "I know you'd rather…" 

"You do not know what I want, Mr. Parker." 

"I know more than you think." Mr. Parker regarded him. "My daughter will live." 

Jarod straightened at the news. "You did an honorable thing out there, you saved her life." 

"Do I get mine in return?" Jarod asked sarcastically. 

"Jarod, you know you belong here. We need you to help us with projects and…" 

"I do not belong here. This is the United States of America! I am entitled to 'freedom of speech', to 'life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness'! Since when did they change that? What gives you the right?" Mr. Parker winced. Realizing their conversation was going nowhere. He picked up his telephone. "Yes, send him back in." 

Moments later, Lyle stocked haughty through the glass doors with Sam. Sam strode over to Jarod and tore him from the chair. Jarod collapsed and Sam shifted to better support him. 

"The Centre owns you Jarod. That is what gives us the right. We created you," Mr. Parker said. Jarod swung his right fist back into Sam's face. Sam fell back, surprised, allowing Jarod to dash to Mr. Parker. He grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the back wall. "YOU DO NOT OWN ME!" 

Lyle, who had been standing out of the way drew his gun and aimed it a Jarod. "Let him go!" he ordered. Jarod did not move; his eyes burned. "Back away!" Lyle fired, missing Jarod by raw inches. Jarod glared at Lyle but let go. Sam grabbed his arms, handcuffing him. He spun the pretender around and punched him across the face. Jarod felt the impact, but all he saw was the floor rush up to meet him. 

Ice cold water splashed across his face and dripped onto his bare chest. He breathed a fine spray of the water out of his mouth at the sweeper. The sweeper slapped him across the face. He looked around the dark room, shivering. 

Lyle's soft voice came from the darkness that surrounded him. "One week age, a fourteen year-old boy named David Gemly was walking through the woods." Jarod heard a loud metallic sound and a spotlight overhead turned on; its beam directed on him. He squinted. By its light, he could barely discern strange shadows that twisted in the murky darkness. "It was a cold night. He had lost his way in the woods. He fell, tearing his shirt." The sweeper shoved him forward, off the chair. He fell to his knees. "No," he begged, trying to resist the pretend. 

Lyle continued, "The rain started to fall as he continued. David noticed two figures ahead of him." Two sweepers advanced out of the shadows. The blades of their knives glinted in the light. "He begged for mercy as they approached." 

"Help me, somebody!" Jarod shouted. 

"They attacked!" 

"NO!" Jarod screamed as the sweepers descended. They ripped at his hands and arms as he cried in pain. 

"David!" Lyle shouted, "David, they left you for dead!" The sweepers backed away into the darkness. 

"You crawled off the path but where did you go, David? The police cannot find you!" 

"No! No, I won't help you!" Jarod dragged himself blindly out of the light. He cradled his slashed arm, kneeling in the middle of the floor. "My name is Jarod!" he shouted. 

Lyle stepped close to the light. It cast eerie shadows across his face. "David, your mother cries for you each night. The town prays for your return. Answer their prayers, David. Tell me where you are." 

Jarod screamed. 

"Save yourself, David! Tell me where you are. You walked the path by the lake. It's so cold, David. Did you go to the water, David, did you crawl to the water?" 

Jarod let out a weak sob. His voice wavered, "It- it hurts so much. I can't think. I can't see." 

Lyle stepped completely into the light. "I can help you, David. Just tell me where you are." 

"I crawl to the water. I, I could swim to the island. It's not to far. They can't reach me there. It's so cold as I start out. I can't swim well, my arms are numb; I can't stay up. I CAN'T BREATHE!" Jarod screamed, clawing at his throat. 

"David what's happening?" 

"I'm drowning. Help me! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! SOMEONE HELP ME!" 

Jarod started to cough violently. His breaths were ragged gasps. He moaned and collapsed to the floor. Lyle heard a loud clatter. Jarod screamed. Lyle motioned for the sweepers to on the lights to the rest of the gigantic room. 

Jarod lay in a puddle of water near the bucket that the sweeper had used. His body jolted in spasms. He reached his hand out to Lyle. 

"Help me," he whispered. 

Lyle picked up another bucket. "You're dead." He splashed the water over the pretender. 

Jarod closed his eyes. His body twisted and fell limp. 


	2. Part Two

Purgatory Part 2 Purgatory Part 2 

Purgatory: Part II 

Sparkling drops fell around him. Rain spilled over his body, washing his clothes red with blood. Fear permeated through his soul. It made him afraid to run, to hide, to stay, to go. He painstakingly dragged himself up off the pine needle floor. He moved in blind terror, gaining speed with each step. The pain muddled his thoughts. He had no idea where to go; he had to escape them. Everywhere he turned, he could see them. Their knives glinting in the moonlight. 

Far off he heard the sound of water, of gentle waves caressing sand. When he fell, he felt wet sand beneath him. He closed his fist around a small handful of the damp mud. He allowed his eyes to rest on the distance line of the opposite shore. The tiny beached across the way looked familiar, safe. His eyes remained fixed to the site as memories washed over him. If he stared hard enough, he could just see the place where his family took camping trips. He had grown attached to the supple clearness that stretched around him. It was impossible for his parents to drag him out of the water when the orange sun calmly sunk over the green mountaintops off in the horizon. His peaceful place had turned deadly. He turned back to the woods. He heard a cacophony of voices coming towards him. Terror rose in his chest. He crawled towards the freezing water falling in. The water splashed around him mimicking the falling rain. After swimming for several yards, he felt numbness spreading over his arms and legs. The water stifled his cries. He surrendered and sank silently to the bottom. 

Jarod started in his sleep, drawing him to consciousness. He opened his deep brown eyes and gazed around the room. So many times when he awoke, he felt confused, not remembering where he was. He had always feared that when he opened his eyes he would be back at the corporation that had controlled his life and lingered in his dreams. Now the nightmare was the reality. 

He attempted to roll over onto his side, but found he could barely move at all. He lifted his head and saw leather straps encircled his body, criss-crossing his chest and legs. His arms c lamped tightly to the table where he lay. His fists were duct-taped to metal bars that protruded out of the table, preventing any movement of his fingers and hands. He rested his head uncomfortably against the steel table. 

"Good morning, welcome back to the living," said a voice off to the side. Jarod shivered at the memory of his dream. He turned his head towards the man. 

"Did you miss me, Lyle?" 

Lyle leaned back in his chair. 

Jarod tried to move his fingers to loosen the tape a little. "I would not recommend doing that, Jarod." Jarod allowed his body to relax. He sighed. Lyle stood and walked around the table into view. His dark gray suit reflected the apathy in his eyes. Cold, indifferent, showing no emotion. Empty blue stared at the helpless man. 

Jarod looked away from him. "What will you do to me now?" 

Lyle ran his gloved hands along the sides of Jarod's face. He reached across Jarod's face pulling a thick leather brace around his head. He secured it tightly, positioning Jarod's head so he stared at the ceiling. He looped the brace around Jarod's chin, limiting his ability to speak. Through clenched teeth, Jarod demanded an answer. Gently, Lyle wrapped his hand around Jarod's neck. He moved his fingers across the skin. 

"I will do as I please." 

He massaged harder and harder until Jarod gasped for air. He allowed him to writhe before letting go and picked up a syringe and small bottle off a nearby table. He drew out several cc's of an amber-colored liquid and flicked the bubbles to the top. He stared at the syringe. 

"Amazing what several chemicals mixed together in the right combination can do to a human body." He squirted the air out, glancing sideways at Jarod through the cloud it created. The instant seemed to stretch on forever for Jarod. Lyle's terrifying look. A half smile: determination spreading on his lips. A cold insanity stared back at Jarod. 

He tried to regain his composure to the best he could in his situation. Calmly simulating his way out, he focused his attention on the bottle. It was just barely out of his eyesight. He tried to read the label, but the print was too fine. "What does this specific combination do?" He mumbled through the brace. 

Lyle ignored his question, stepped back, and pulled a stool close to Jarod's side. "How long has it been?" 

"What?" Jarod asked, eyeing the needle warily. 

"Since we first met," he paused, thinking. "Ah, yes, SL-27, four years ago in Sim Lab 56." Lyle twirled the needle around casually. "We were testing cardio benzene." 

"I would not expect you to be the type to remember your lab rats and the mazes they run." 

"You were quite the rat, David." 

Jarod glared at him, "I'm not yours to control any more, Lyle. I will not believe your lies; I will not solve your problems. You benefited from my work, now it's your turn to pay." 

"You are powerless here. Your tricks will not be tolerated. You are a mere subject and there is nothing that you can do to stop me or the Centre. We own you, hell, we created you." 

Jarod's face went white. "I belong with my family." 

"We are your family." 

"No!" 

"Jarod, why would your family care about you now? They have a new son, an exact copy of you. They do not need you anymore. We need you." 

"No, I promised my father, I promised I would see him again." 

"Why would he want to see you again?" 

"He's my father." 

"He doesn't even know you!" 

"HE'S MY FATHER!" 

Through the restraints, Lyle saw Jarod's body shaking with determination or could it be fear? He enjoyed watching Jarod as he tried to resist the thoughts forced into his mind. He knew that eventually, in his present state, Jarod would probably win his struggle with them. Lyle played with the syringe in his hand, drawing Jarod's nervous attention. Lyle only needed to wait, try to be patient as Jarod slowly succumbed to the chemicals that would soon be coursing through his veins. He anticipated breaking Jarod's façade of confidence. A knock on the door swept away his reveries. Two sweepers accompanied Raines as entered. Raines glanced apathetically at Jarod's prone form before addressing Lyle. 

"Are you ready to begin the procedure?" he breathed. 

Lyle allowed his eyes to linger on Jarod's face. 

"Yes." 


	3. Part Three

Purgatory Part III Purgatory Part 3 

*Author's note: takes place at the end of the third season finale where Jarod is captured. Sorry NBC and TnT... 

Purgatory: Part III 

Jarod closed his eyes when the needle penetrated his vein. A strange warmth spread up his arm. It cascaded down his chest and legs. Rapidly, the sensation washed over his whole body. Soon he felt a prickling as if his body had fallen asleep. The feeling intensified to sharp spasms of pain. He cried out as his nerves burned in fury. He writhed against the unrelenting pain that tore at him. Lyle leaned over his face, brushed Jarod's hair off his damp forehead. 

"David, David," Lyle whispered in his ear, "You'll never escape again." 

Jarod moaned. The pain slowly subsided to a dull ache. With his senses shot, numbness fell over his body. His breathing became labored. He opened his eyes. His vision blurred; he watched as a hand approached his face. He felt a sharp prick next to his right eye. A burning sensation seared in the back of his eyes. He closed them and lost consciousness. 

Lyle glanced at Jarod's face. _Too peaceful_, he thought. He ordered a sweeper to inject a stimulant and Jarod's eyes opened. He blinked, glanced around the room, and closed his eye again. Lyle grinned, _It's working_. 

"Again sir?" the sweeper asked. 

"No, he is awake," Raines wheezed. 

Lyle detected his joy that mingled with his own. Joy that their project began so successfully. Lyle forced Jarod's eyes open, trickling in drops from the needle. Jarod gritted his teeth, slammed his eye shut when released. Lyle stole a glance at Raines. 

Suddenly, Jarod lashed out screaming through clenched teeth. He struggled against the braces. Just as suddenly, he stopped. His body froze for an agonizing moment. Gently, methodically, Raines started to rub Jarod's arms and face. He tensed, but eventually relaxed under the gentle touch. 

Lyle stood. "Let him sleep. Transfer him to SL-18 to his new room." He walked out of the room. 

Jarod awoke shivering. He heard water dripping off to his side. Cold tendrils of steam raised around him. He felt a pang of humiliation when he realized his clothes were different. Changed, probably by sweepers. He opened his eyes to see where he was. His body shook in horror. He reached his fingers up, rubbing his eyes. Nothing. Not even black crossed his empty vision. He heard a door open to his left. He stumbled backwards, away from the noises. He hit a wall, and heard something fall and break. Glass exploded across his face. He shouted in surprise. Heavy footsteps surrounded his. Two strong hands clamped down on his arms, pulling him upwards. They handcuffed him in one quick motion. Jarod managed to free his arms, but slipped and landed hard on his side. Glass dug into his skin. He tried to twist away from the glass, but the hands pulled his arm and threw his into a pair of arms. Jarod collapsed. 

Sam dragged the dazed man out of the door. He held him possessively as they stumbled down the hall. 

Jarod heard the soft patter of heels on the hardwood floor. His first thought was of Miss Parker. An overly polished accent told him otherwise. 

"Hello Jarod." 

"Brigitte." He could only imagine her happiness at seeing him destroyed so. 

She gazed at his ravaged body. Blood dripped from his right arm. His brown eyes stared blankly ahead, confirming Lyle's report. Sam completely framed the wiry man. Brigitte smiled and stepped up to Jarod's face. She exhaled over his eyes. Jarod stepped back, sensing her closeness. She ran her hand over his face as he tried to shake her off. She lowered her fingers over his chest and stomach. 

"No," he murmured. 

She looped her arms around his back, pulling him closer. 

"Mmm, Miss Parker has a reason for choosing you." She smiled and stroked his face. Abruptly, she scratched her fingernails down his slashed arm. He moaned, darted to the left. Sam grabbed the back of his shirt and slammed him into the wall beside them. Jarod crumpled to the floor. 

"A genius that can't even keep his own two feet under him," she clucked her tongue in disapproval. Jarod lunged toward her voice, grabbing at air. Sam kicked him brutally and he relented. 

"Take him to Sydney." She bent and stoked Jarod's back like a dog. He let out a sob of frustration. "You'll want to see your old master," she mocked him. Sam grabbed his ankle and pulled him o the elevator. 

He twisted, trying to stop himself. 

Sydney sat thoughtfully at his neat desk. How fast time had gone by! Between saving Miss Parker and the capture of Jarod, time slipped by. He imagined that was not so for Jarod. He heard the horrifying screams ricocheting through the sub-levels walls. _I never realized it would come to this._ "Is that so?" another voice reminded him, "were you really that far off yourself?" He shook his head. _What have I become?_

His door banged open. An annoyed Sam dragged an indignant and confused Jarod through the door. Jarod was cursing and threatening Sam, who looked angry, and on the verge of violence. He pulled Jarod to a chair and attempted to force him to sit. Jarod resisted. 

"Jarod," Sydney called, "I promise not to hurt you." 

Abruptly, Jarod sat. Sydney saw him grasp the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He no longer resembled the man who had risked his future to save Miss Parker. His face was sunken and his hands trembled. Jarod averted his eyes to the floor. 

"Jarod, what have they done to you these past two weeks?" 

Jarod's body stiffened. His eyes registered the information with shock. His voice wavered, "Two weeks? Two weeks? No…" He slid off the leather chair striking his head on the desk. 

"Jarod!" Sydney heard a quiet sobbing. Sam hefted Jarod back into the chair. Tears streamed openly down his pale face. Sam rested his burly arms on Jarod's shoulders. 

"What did they do to you?" 

Slowly, Jarod looked up. He wiped the tears from his eyes. He tried to pick out Sydney's location in the room. Sydney glanced behind him to where Jarod's gaze settled. When he turned to face him again, he realized Jarod did not follow his movements. 

"My God Jarod, you're blind." 

Jarod hung his head. "I never truly imagined what, what it was like. I always thought I could tell. But when I pretended, I could always open my eyes. I could see the sky. I am nothing now, nobody. I can never escape my hell. I get lost walking in my damn room… A part of me is missing, I, I can't…" 

"Sam, wait outside my door." Jarod felt the heavy bulk lifted from his shoulders. A door closed behind him. Sydney stood. "Jarod, here, lie down…" Jarod rose from his seat, disoriented. Sydney gently guided him to the couch. Jarod relaxed. Sydney doubted whether Jarod was able to relax while under Lyle's care. 

"Tell me, what do you remember?" 

"Lyle, brought me back in a, a helicopter. They, Lyle dragged me around the Centre," Jarod's face flushed as he remembered the humiliation. "He took me to Mr. Parker's office. Miss Parker, she's okay. Sam was there, Lyle he, he tried to shoot me. I attacked Mr. Parker… I wanted to kill him, to hurt him like he did to me," he sighed. Frustration edged his voice as he continued. "They made me pretend. I, I did not stop myself. They didn't even threaten me. I let them!" 

"Jarod, it's in your nature. You helped a family. Lyle knew, that is you strength!" 

"My weakness! My weakness… That is why I am here. Why I am blind." Jarod self-consciously began to pick at the sleeveless shirt he wore. 

"But you saved Miss Parker's life!" 

"The one she spent chasing me." His words and actions shocked Sydney, but understood Jarod's fear and confusion came from the jump back to his life of slavery. 

"I collapsed. I couldn't deal with the pretend. It was too real. Death, the boy… It haunts my dreams. I awoke later. He, he had me, he had me tied, tied to a surgical table. I couldn't I couldn't even move my fingers! Raines and Sam and… Sydney I…" 

Sydney gently held Jarod's hand. He wished he could help the young man, whose day and night were tortured by the Centre. 

"They injected drugs, no label, no sight…" 

"What else did they do," he urged. 

"I don't know! I can't remember! Two weeks!!" 

"Jarod, I know memory loss can be a disturbing thing…" 

"At the Centre, memory loss is a deadly thing. Memories, Syd, that's all I have left. The DSA's, where are they?" 

"Mr. Parker, Lyle, they would have them." Jarod tightened his grip on Sydney's hand. "Sydney, please, find them! Tell me what happened. Two weeks!!" 

Sydney gently rubbed Jarod's shaking hand. Upon careful inspection, he discovered flecks of blood imbedded in his nails. _Defensive cuts?_ He wondered. Sydney flipped over his hand, glancing at Jarod's palms. Four even cuts, crusted in blood, were on the heel of his palm. Sydney uncurled Jarod's other hand. It contained the same four marks. What pain caused Jarod to do this? His own fingernails broke the skin. 

"It's over now." Jarod assured Sydney. They both knew it was a lie.   



	4. Part Four

Purgatory Part IV Purgatory Part 4 

*Author's note: takes place at the end of the third season finale where Jarod is captured. Sorry NBC and TnT... 

Purgatory: Part IV   
  
Lyle opened the door to Sydney's room quietly. The gesture was subdued and calm, ironic to anyone who did not know the true nature of the psychopath for the action seemed almost respectful. Sydney realized that control emanated from Lyle's simplest movements. Silence, once peace to Jarod, now thrummed with treachery. Jarod could no longer trust his sight to keep him from danger. Jarod's brown eyes moved beneath his dark brow. His blind gaze rested on his unseen tormentor. "David," Lyle murmured hypnotically.   
  
Jarod exploded, throwing himself backward off the couch. He fell against a table, sending a lamp crashing to the ground. It shattered next to his face. Jarod twisted away from the shower of glass.  
  
"Jarod!" Sydney shouted in alarm.   
  
Jarod moaned in pain. "No! Don't let him take me, Sydney! Don't let him take me!" Jarod scrambled to his feet, using the wall for support. He backed into a corner as Sam advanced on him. Jarod fought savagely against Sam as he tried to subdue him. "Help me, Sydney!" Jarod cried desperately.   
  
Sydney turned to Lyle, "Lyle, don't do this!"   
  
Lyle leaned against the doorway passively, watching the disruption in cool disinterest.   
  
"He is my project this time, Sydney."   
  
Jarod swung awkwardly at Sam, hitting him in the shoulder. Sam grunted and thrust his fist deep into Jarod's stomach. Jarod gasped for breath, crumpling to his knees. Sam grabbed a fistful of his hair and twisted Jarod's face up. Jarod's face contorted in pain, but he did not speak.   
  
"You do not hit me, understand?" Jarod blankly stared ahead. "Do you understand?" Sam slapped him across the face. Jarod tumbled sideways over the broken lamp, the shards bit into him. He stood.   
  
"Jarod," Sam started menacingly. Lyle cut him short.   
  
"That's enough. We're going."   
  
Sydney gazed sadly at his former protégé.   
  
  
They threw him into his room. Jarod noticed thankfully that the glass was gone. He felt his way around the room, a small cot sat to his left, to his right was a small bathroom. He edged forward until his fingers hit another wall. It was smooth, glass. He felt around, it covered the whole wall. He threw a fist at the wall; he had no way of knowing if it was a mirror or a window. He had no way of knowing if anyone watched him now. He slowly slid down the length of the glass, and drew up his knees. He rocked back and forth, quietly sobbing.   
  
From a grate above two eyes stared solemnly at Jarod.   
  
  
Miss Parker stalked the halls. Power radiated from the stiff posture to the sharp clicks of her stilettos on the hard linoleum. With the grace of a dancer she grasped the doors and thrust them open. Her father sat at his desk alone. She allowed the sound of her heels to reverberate around the room as she walked up to him.   
  
"Daddy, why won't you let me see Jarod."   
  
"Hi, Angel, why don't you sit down."   
  
"Daddy…"   
  
"Shh, I don't want you to see him."   
  
"Why?"   
  
"It's not good for the retraining. He needs a stable environment."   
  
"Retraining- you make him sound like an animal."  
  
Mr. Parker paused, thinking. "Angel, he's not… right, he's greatly disturbed. We want to make him better before you see him. Your presence could interrupt the program."   
  
"Daddy, he saved my life."   
  
"That's right. But it was his duty, he works for the Centre."   
  
"He risked his future to save me."   
  
"He has a future here…"   
  
  
Deep in the catacombs of the Centre, a desolate Jarod stopped sobbing…   
  
and started screaming.   
  
  


[HOME][1]  
  


[][2]Comments/ Questions  


[Part 5: Purgatory: PG_13][3]  


[BACK][4]  


   [1]: http://www.angelfire.com/tv2/whitefirefanfic/
   [2]: mailto:whitefire_64@yahoo.com
   [3]: http://www.angelfire.com/tv2/whitefirefanfic/purg5.html
   [4]: http://www.angelfire.com/tv2/whitefirefanfic/purgamain.html



	5. Part Five

Purgatory Part V Purgatory Part 5 

*Author's note: takes place at the end of the third season finale where Jarod is captured. Sorry NBC and TnT... 

Purgatory: Part V   
  
"Broots, I want you to find Jarod, now, no questions, I need to know his location."   
  
"Ye, Yes Miss Parker." Broots scurried off to his computer terminal. After typing for several minutes, Broots looked up at Miss Parker.   
  
"I, I found something."   
  
"Already?"   
  
He shrugged, "They seemed to want us to find this."   
  
He pointed to the screen.   
  
"Oh my God," Miss Parker's eyes darted across the screen. It was a live video feed from the security cameras watching Jarod.   
  
"Broots, can you tell me where that's coming from." Miss Parker almost had to shout over the sickening noises coming from the computer.   
  
"Hold on," he typed in more commands to the computer, "SL-18."   
  
"Get Sydney, we're going."   
  
  
Jarod heard the soft patter of heels. He started, "Brigitte?" He heard them sound coming closer and closer. Jarod lifted his head and instantly regretted it. A fist crunched into his bruised side.   
  
"Don't move!" A voice ordered him. He relaxed slowly and painfully. The manacles held him tightly to the wall, which was unyieldingly hard and accentuated every spasm of pain that jolted his body.   
  
"I have finished, Sir," the voice of a Sweeper said.   
  
Jarod felt a warm breath near his ear. He attempted to shrug it away, but Lyle persisted.   
  
"Jarod, you seem to enjoy trying new things. I have a new taste for you." Jarod automatically clamped his mouth shut. It was immediately pried open by a metal spoon. The bitter contents were dumped onto his tongue. A thick hand covered his mouth and nose, blocking his airways. Another hand stroked the length of his neck, stimulating a sense to swallow the acrid stuff. "Swallow or suffocate," were his options. He swallowed, and the hands released him. Deep in his throat a thick bubble formed. He tried to cough, but the bubble continued to choke him. He swallowed in vain. Lyle watched as Jarod's lips turned a pale purple. Jarod thrashed against the braces, struggling for air.   
  
"Shh," Lyle whispered, "Don't waste your breath."   
  
Jarod stared desperately ahead. His lips formed the words, "Please, please."   
  
When Jarod slumped against the braces Lyle tipped his head back. He inserted a thin tube down his throat. Lyle clamped Jarod's nose shut and drew his face close to his prey. Lyle gazed sideways at Jarod's closed eyes and leaned closer. He began artificial respiration.   
  
Jarod broke back to consciousness sucking in air. Lyle slowly released his prey. Jarod spat in his face. A metal bar crashed against his skull; Jarod groaned, half conscious. Jarod felt a dizzying change of gravity, suddenly, he was lying on the floor.   
  
"Jarod, Jarod, wake up!"   
  
Miss Parker leaned over Jarod. "Wake up!"   
  
He shifted away in protest, but reluctantly opened his eyes. "Who are you?" he demanded.   
  
"Jarod, don't you recognize me?" she asked, shocked.   
  
He held out his hand, searching for hers. When his fingers brushed her wrist, he held on tightly. She tenderly waved her free hand through his hair. He pulled her closer, needing the warmth that only he could find in her. He embraced her; he could smell the sweet perfume on her hair mingled with the taste of fear on his breath. Her fingers brushed his cheek; she felt tears falling from his brown eyes.   
  
"Jarod, what did he do to you?"   
  
"He, he," his voice cracked as he continued, "He took my sight. He left me blind, helpless, at his mercy. I can't defend myself against Lyle…"   
  
Miss Parker helped Jarod to stand in the small room. She guided him to the small bed.   
  
"Let me speak with my father about this."   
  
"He knows already," his voice was laced with hatred, "He authorized the project."   
  
  



	6. Part Six

Purgatory Part VI Purgatory Part 6 

*Author's note: takes place at the end of the third season finale where Jarod is captured. Sorry NBC and TnT... 

Purgatory: Part VI   
  
  
  
  
Jarod was alone. Silence was his invisible companion. Sight was his lost friend. He was sad for the losses: freedom, vision. Both were gone, but the memories, the memories. They returned. They were all he had left. All he had lost. The memories. He thought he would never succumb to them, but the memories of David trickled back to mock him. So abrupt was the return. The memories…   
  
Fingers brushed the fold of his arm. The skin burned under the vile touch. The demon's touch felt as hot as hell in his mind. He felt leather gloves on his skin, Lyle. He shivered. A liquid ate its way into his veins. The gloves clasped his hands. Jarod felt a heavy weight pressed forced into his grasp. He held it, but the gloves did not release him. Lyle guided the weight. Jarod let his fingers trace the outline of it. It was a gun. He slipped his finger into the trigger, but Lyle's did not allow him to move the aim.   
  
"Jarod," he whispered into his ear. "I want you to kill."   
  
Jarod balked, releasing the weapon. Lyle forced him to take hold of it again. "I want you to kill. I want you to murder."   
  
"No, I won't, I won't do it."   
  
Lyle encircled Jarod; his arms rested on Jarod's. He forced Jarod to aim straight ahead. "I want you to kill," he repeated harshly.   
  
"I won't help you!"   
  
Lyle pressed his chest into Jarod's back. He rested his cheek on Jarod's neck, his chin on Jarod's shoulder. Jarod struggled, but Lyle continued repeating and held Jarod fast. Lyle ran one hand through Jarod's chocolate hair. He grabbed a fistful and pulled. Jarod winced, throwing his head back. There was a shark prick on his neck and he sensed a warm relaxation bubbling through his system. He shook his head to keep his thoughts lucid as the relaxant numbed his mind. Lyle eased him to his knees and whispered in his ear, "Kill."   
  
"The only person I would kill is you, Lyle."   
  
Lyle stood and walked in front of Jarod. "Then go ahead, Jarod, no one's stopping you."   
  
"Give me back my sight!"   
  
"You can't do it, you know that. You couldn't kill me."   
  
"Then you know I won't kill them."   
  
Jarod heard a faint moan in front of him. "Who is it? Who's there?" he called. Another moan echoed the first. It was a younger tone. A fearful tone. One void of understanding, rich in the innocence of youth. The innocence that was to be corrupted, no doubt. This was, after all, the Centre. "They are choices. Each has its benefits; each has its costs.   
  
A gruff voice called to Jarod from across the room.   
  
"Don't give him anything. Jarod, stay strong!" Jarod recoiled in horror as the voice was silenced. He opened his lips, but words of protest held fast to his tongue. He shook his hand mutely.   
  
Lyle spoke for him, "It's impossible, right, 'they escaped!' Daddy and the clone. Take your pick."   
  
  
  
Jarod's eyes snapped open. He was lying in a bed; he could feel the sheets twisted around him. "No," he muttered, grief stricken. _Oh, God let it be a dream. Was it real?_   
  
He screamed at the cameras he knew were there, "Sydney! Miss Parker!" "Was it real? What did you do to me?"   
  
"What did I do, what did I do?" he sobbed; he poured out his soul to the empty room. But only the deaf heard his cries, only the blind saw him weep.   
  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	7. Part Seven

Purgatory Part VII Purgatory Part 7 

*Author's note: takes place at the end of the third season finale where Jarod is captured. Sorry NBC and TnT... 

Purgatory: Part VII   
  
A bolt of pain seared through the back of his eyes. Jarod snapped his head back away from the doctor's hands.   
  
"Did that hurt, Jarod?" The man asked in his Australian accent.   
  
Jarod refused to answer, but his reaction was evidence enough.   
  
"Jarod, you need to answer me, I'm trying to help you."   
  
Jarod remained silent.   
  
"Mr. Lyle, I cannot work if all he does is fight me."   
  
"Jarod, let the good doctor do his work…"   
  
Jarod spat in his direction, "good?" Lyle lunged, grabbing a scalpel off a nearby tray and knocked to surprised doctor to the floor with a yell. He pressed it against Jarod's throat.   
  
"You'll never get anything from me."   
  
"I already have, David," Jarod went rigid. Lyle flicked the blade into the air and caught it, point down. With one quick motion, he rammed it into Jarod's knee. Jarod gritted his teeth.   
  
"Move, and the pain increases. Refuse to cooperate, I move it." He flicked the knife; Jarod groaned.   
  
"Continue," he barked to the doctor. The man began to protest, but Lyle restated his demand.   
  
Jarod relented, if only for the sake of the doctor. The man picked up a small flashlight.   
  
"Jarod, I want you to look up."   
  
The doctor shined the light in his eyes.   
  
"It hurts. My eyes feel swollen."   
  
The doctor leaned close, dancing the light across his eyes. "Oh my God."   
  
He dipped his head further forward.   
  
"Jarod, what is this? There are tiny black…"   
  
"Enough!" Lyle cut in, twisting the blade. Jarod pressed himself into his chair; he shouted, grabbing his leg.   
  
"I asked you here to assess his condition, not to converse…"   
  
"But that could kill him!"   
  
"It does not concern you."   
  
"I am his doctor, what you are doing to his body is insane."   
  
Lyle wrenched the knife free of Jarod and threatened the doctor. "No, you are a doctor of the Centre and if you disagree with me again, you will suffer the same fate as your patient."   
  
"Please," Jarod said, "Don't help me."   
  
  
  
"So, David, now you beg not to be helped. Why the sudden change of heart?"   
  
"My name is Jarod."   
  
"Answer me David, why do you want me to continue? Why did you try to fight me before?"   
  
"Leave me alone."   
  
"No one will help David."   
  
"Leave me alone."   
  
"No one will help you, David."   
  
"No, I'm already dead."   
  
"Hello, this is Sydney." He rose from his desk as he heard the news. "My God, are you certain? Yes, I will. Thank you, doctor." With this he punched the receiver and began to dial another number.   
  
"What?" a voice answered.   
  
"It's me," he replied, " need you and Broots to find Jarod and bring him to my office immediately."   
  
In a half-hearted tone Miss Parker answered, "I'm sorry Sydney, in case you haven't noticed, the psychopath runs the freak show."   
  
"Talk to your father, do anything, you must get Jarod to me if only for an hour, please."   
  
"Fine," she hung up, mentally preparing herself for the next dance.   
  
  
  
"Absolutely not, she will undermine all we have worked for!"   
  
"'She' is present in case you hadn't noticed, and after three years of searching, you owe me at least an hour!"   
  
"Angel…"   
  
"No, Daddy, I need to see him; Sydney needs to see him."   
  
"You brother has done a lot of work, the Centre doesn't want that ruined."   
  
"Can't you give a human being peace," she spat.   
  
Lyle rolled his eyes, "The Centre owns him."   
  
Brigitte sidled up to Mr. Parker. "Honey, let's let Miss Parker have her fun. It'll only be an hour." As Mr. Parker half smiled, Brigitte winked at Miss Parker who stared. The mix of horror and confusion made her head spin.   
  
  
  
"Don't ever make me do that again," Miss Parker ordered Sydney as she   
  
sunk into his chair. "I don't know which is worst- watching her spell   
  
over him, or being in her debt."   
  
"What did she want to help you for?"   
  
  
  
Jarod sat rocking himself back and forth in his cell. He knew Lyle was up to something, but what scared him was he didn't seem to care. It was like watching a movie; all he felt was apathy. He pounded his fist on the glass; he could feel something in that. There was pain; in pain, he felt alive. He knew he did not want this life anymore.   
  
  
  



	8. Part Eight

Purgatory Part 8   
  
  
"Cree craw toad's foot, geese walk bare foot. Cree craw toad's foot, geese walk bare foot."   
  
Miss Parker drew her attention away from Angelo's rocking. "Syd, what does he mean but this?"   
  
"I asked him to search for Jarod. He began repeating the rhyme continually."   
  
"Cree craw toad's foot, geese walk bare foot."   
  
"Angelo?" Miss Parker stepped towards where he lay on the floor.   
  
"No more Jarod."   
  
Miss Parker turned back to Sydney. "Could they have brainwashed Jarod?" Her eyes were fearful.   
  
"No," he assured her, "the Centre couldn't even turn him into an empath if they wanted to. He's too strong."   
  
"No more Jarod, no more Jarod."   
  
"Angelo, did they move him?"   
  
He shook his head. "Cree craw toad's foot, geese walk bare foot."   
  
"What do you mean? Please, what happened to Jarod?"   
  
Angelo stopped rocking and turned to her. "No more Jarod – David."   
  
  
  
Brigitte ran her index finger down the length of Jarod's spine. She moaned, mocking him. Jarod inhaled sharply, "Cree craw toad's foot, geese walk bare foot." He shifted uncomfortably on the mattress as Brigitte continued her exploration of his body. She brushed both hands down to the edge of his pants. She spread her fingers around his hips, worming them under his stomach. He twisted away from her, but her fingers crawled up his back, peeling his shirt away. He turned to her, grabbing her wrists.   
  
"Leave me alone," he demanded.   
  
She smiled and forced his arms back – his starved body no match for her strength. "David," she moaned.   
  
"No," he whimpered covering his ears.   
  
She slung a leg over him, straddling his torso. She descended slowly onto him gasping in pleasure when she made contact. Leather on leather. "David," she repeated.   
  
A serpent's smile spread across her lips as she hypnotized her prey.   
  
  
  
"Mind control?" Miss Parker hesitated. "But you said that was impossible."   
  
"I had," he agreed as they stepped into the elevator.   
  
"Sydney, what aren't you telling me?"   
  
"I received a phone call from a colleague of mine. He is a doctor at the Centre as well. He said he had a chance to study Jarod as his and Lyle's projects overlap. He alone would recognize the anomalies. He has been apart of the Centre research on nanotechnology; he knows the Centre is on the verge of a breakthrough."   
  
"What did he find?"   
  
"They are using him as part of the nano experiments. The Centre has developed nanobots, self-sufficient technology that was programmed to invade the human body, even take control."   
  
  
  
"I know what they have done to you, luv," Brigitte whispered. "You will be with the Centre again soon."   
  
"What have they done to me?"   
  
She smiled, lowering herself onto him. She pulled his arm up to her hip. He moved his hand to her stomach. "Oh, Jarod…" she gasped.   
  
He sat up, holding his hand to her stomach. "Brigitte, you're pregnant."   
  
She frowned. She grabbed hold of his wrist and attempted to drag his hand down further, but he resisted. She grabbed the sides of his face instead and pulled him to her. She kissed him, full on the lips. He pulled himself away – "Stop it."   
  
"Stop resisting me, David!"   
  
Jarod went numb and did not struggle when she kissed him again. His hand fell into her lap.   
  
Miss Parker opened the door.   
  
She caught her breath, surprised at what she saw.   
  
Brigitte pulled herself away and smiled, "I was just explaining to Jarod that you were coming to visit him."   
  
Jarod shook her off weakly. She clung to his arm, playing with the sleeve of his shirt. Miss Parker watched in disgust as Brigitte slung her hand through Jarod hair.   
  
"Stop it, just… He's coming with me."   
  
Brigitte shrugged and helped Jarod to his feet. Miss Parker took his shoulder and guided him out of the room.   
  
  
  
Sydney held a penlight steadily into Jarod's eyes. He watched as tiny black dots moved beneath the corneas. Jarod shook slightly.   
  
"Is there any way to remove them?" Miss Parker asked.   
  
"We'd risk permanent damage to his eyes."   
  
"What do you think we should do?" Broots asked.   
  
"Any ideas, Jarod?"   
  
Jarod shook his head.   
  
"Maybe there's some way to deactivate them…interrupt their energy supply?" Broots suggested.   
  
Jarod shook his head again; "They run on bio-electricity."   
  
"Can we try to overload them?"   
  
Jarod shrugged, "I don't know if that'd work. We could try."   
  
Sydney nodded, "Alright, Broots, you have less than half an hour to assemble what you need."   
  
  
  
"We put together a headset that will feed an electrical pulse to Jarod's head. It gives off less energy than what could power a Christmas tree light, so safety shouldn't be a concern."   
  
"Start it then," Miss Parker said.   
  
Jarod leaned back against the chair as Broots helped him slip the band around his head. It rested just above his eyebrows. He nodded to Broots to start it. Broots plugged it in and Jarod felt a mild buzzing sensation. He cried out as he felt an explosion behind his eyes. Jarod felt the buzzing cease as he collapsed against the chair.   
  
  
  
"I want you to kill, Jarod."   
  
"No, I won't do that!" Jarod shouted.   
  
"I'm giving you a choice," Lyle forced the gun to the right, "The clone," he forced it to the left, "Or Major Charles."   
  
"Never!"   
  
"Kill one or we will kill them both."   
  
Jarod heard screams from the boy and a heavy metallic noise. "No, leave him alone!"   
  
Jarod pulled back the hammer of the gun, "I'll choose."   
  
He held up the gun to his head.   
  
"No!" Lyle shouted, tackling Jarod. He pulled Jarod up again and forced the gun back into his hands. "That is not an option, David."   
  
Jarod hung his head. "You can't make me decide this."   
  
Another needle penetrated his arm. "Sodium pentothal," Lyle whispered.   
  
Jarod recoiled in horror. He felt weaker, more tired. "No," he muttered, "I won't let you, I can't let you. I will fight you!"   
  
"Who should die, Jarod?"   
  
"You should, you bastard. After everything you have done to my family – kidnapped them, brainwashed them – you have even created a child, a copy of me only more willing. People aren't your slaves, you can't create them at will and program them like computers. You disgust me!"   
  
"People create life all the time…"   
  
"Not like that. He's not natural; he is a copy of me. A clone, a recreation who should never had existed."   
  
Jarod heard the boy cry out in shame.   
  
"Then you have made your choice, Jarod?"   
  
  
  
Jarod awoke on the chair and shouted, "No! You bastard, Lyle, no!" He struggled against the weight of Broots, Sydney and Parker. He finally collapsed, sobbing.   
  
"Jarod," Sydney whispered, "Jarod, it's alright. You are safe here."   
  
"Not then – Sydney, I keep remembering pieces of what happened. The device must have triggered something in the nanites. It brought back more of what Lyle… made me do."   
  
"What do you remember, Jarod?"   
  
He lowered his head, "I think Lyle made me choose between my father and the clone." 


	9. Part Nine

Jarod awoke on the chair and shouted, "No! You bastard, Lyle, no!" He struggled against the weight of Broots, Sydney and Parker. He finally collapsed, sobbing.

"Jarod," Sydney whispered, "Jarod, it's alright. You are safe here."

"Not then – Sydney, I keep remembering pieces of what happened. The device must have triggered something in the nanites. It brought back more of what Lyle… made me do."

"What do you remember, Jarod?"

He lowered his head, "I think Lyle made me choose between my father and the clone."

"Choose? What are you saying, Jarod?"

"I keep having memories of Lyle… he held a gun in my hand and asked me to pick between my father and the boy."

"Oh my god," Broots murmured.

"Can you remember what happened?" Sydney questioned.

"No…I, I mean I don't think that…"

Parker looked up at Sydney in horror, "Do you think that they are here? That Lyle managed to find them?"

"Wouldn't they have told us?" Sydney asked her.

"Why?" Jarod said, "Why would they have bothered to?"

"Remember Sydney, my brother has no soul."

Miss Parker caught a hint of leather turning the corner in front of her. She knew immediately who prowled there. Mentally, she made her decision to go ahead with her plan. She sighed.

"Brigitte!" She called out her rival's name. The figure in black turned, with an expectant smile on her face.

"Hallo luv, come to ask me something?"

"You know what so tell me why."

"I helped you because there is nothing you can do."

Miss Parker hid her confusion with a sharp glare. "Explain."

"Nothing's gonna save him – not this time." She spun around, turning a corner.

"I know you're pregnant," Miss Parker said.

The patter of heels stopped.

"Whose baby is it?"

"Not here, Miss Parker, they can't know."

"Who?"

"The same people pulling the strings, watching the cameras. The higher ups beyond your father." Brigitte came back to her.

"You'll get only one more chance to save Jarod before it's too late."

Miss Parker balked.

Brigitte shook her head. "Jarod is strong, but he can't prevent what's happening to him – he can only resist it. You have to get him out – you have to stop what's happening before you lose him forever."

"How?"

"Jarod knows – but he will not offer you the information. David will tell you, but only if you force him to."

Brigitte glanced up at the security camera, and then disappeared around the corner before Miss Parker could wonder who David was.

Jarod was annoyed already. The minutes seem to pass so slowly. He stared blankly ahead, not even listening to the man. Sydney, he corrected himself. What did it matter anyway? Sydney appeared unduly worried. Jarod alleviated his fears by simplistic consolations tuned to his specific needs at the time. But, unfortunately, Sydney was starting to catch on.

"Jarod, you haven't been listening have you?" Sydney accused.

"How dare you!" Jarod snapped.

Miss Parker entered and sensed the tension in the room.

"Jarod – what's going on?" she demanded.

Jarod tore the headset off his scalp. "I'm sick of this! Leave me alone."

"Jarod, if we don't help you now you may never recover."

Jarod threw the headset in her direction. "What if I don't want to remember!" Miss Parker glanced at Sydney, surprised by his childishness.

"What is happening here?" Miss Parker whispered. "Jarod, you never give up, never. It's not like you…"

"Maybe I'm sick of being me. Maybe I don't want to remember what I did or who I was…"

"Are," she corrected.

"_Was_."

Miss Parker motioned for Sydney and Broots to leave before continuing.

"Jarod, please, don't give up now."

He sat and folded his arms. She sat beside him touching his shoulder.

"Do you know how to stop the nanites?"

Jarod sat resolute.

She tried again, "Jarod, do you know how to stop them?"

Again, no response.

"Answer me, dammit!" she shouted, driving her fist into his leg.

He flinched but stayed quiet, scowling at her.

"Does David know how to stop the nanites?"

Jarod's eyes went wide in anger and fear. "Don't, please…"

Parker repeated her question.

Jarod inhaled sharply his face going blank, "Yes," he whispered.

"Who is David?" she asked.

Jarod looked down, a mental fight going on behind his furrowed brow. When he looked up, his eyes were dark. "A boy. He is part of me now. I died with him."

"What do you mean?"

"When I first came here, I pretended his death." His voice dropped in bitter anger, "Now he is the control Lyle has over me."

"How—"

"His name is that which activates their programming. The nanotechnology's purpose is to gain control over my personality. They are programmed to learn how my brain responds to stimulus and my own actions. It can reproduce the effects it learns. It has learned how to make me obey commands. If I accept the help I know will work, I risk teaching it what Lyle needs to control me."

"What can we do?"

"I can't answer you…"

"What can we do, David?"

He looked at her angrily, "Force me to accept your help, not to choose to be helped. The doctor working on the program knows how to stop them."

Outside the office, Parker was pacing the corridor.

"I don't like this, Syd. When did he suddenly go insane?"

Sydney had a worried look on his face. "Parker, try to calm down. It will not help the situation."

"Come on, Syd!" she accused. "Was I the only one hearing what he said in there? Nanotechnology? My brother hacking his brain? That's impossible!"

"No," answered Broots.

She fixed him with her best impatient glare.

"Miss, Miss Parker, I've been doing some, ah research into this since Sydney, ah mentioned it a while ago. What they've been doing it's, it's incredible, yes. But, but it _is_ true. They are, in a way, hacking Jarod's mind. Um, think of it as a child. You can teach it things, and once it learns them, it will mimic them. Once it learns certain responses it will recreate them. So, so it's learning, ah, from Jarod, Jarod's physical reactions and will recreate them."

"How does this help us?"

"Well, I think Jarod's been trying to teach it resistance."

"But he's not succeeding," Sydney commented.

"No. The first Pretend he did here. It must have been enough to teach the nanites a powerful method of control," Broots finished.

Sydney closed his eyes. "It was a Pretend to save a child. Jarod said he couldn't help but try and save the boy."

"Lyle's using his pity against him," Parker grimaced.

"Broots, it there anything else we can do to stop them and destroy them?"

"I, I don't know, Sydney."

"Think, Broots."

"Well, ah, the best way to stop a computer is to pull the plug."

"We know we can't do that."

"Then the next best thing is to give it a virus."

"Bingo. Do it," Parker ordered.

"I'll, I'll have to see the software on these things. I don't know the codes yet."

"Sydney, how close of a friend are you with this doctor you mentioned?"

Sydney smiled grimly, "Very."

A knock sounded on the door outside a messy office. The man at the desk opened the door.

"Sydney! A surprise. How are you, sir?" the younger man asked, glancing behind him.

"Martin, my friend. Please, drop the formalities, there's no need."

The younger man grinned, "Sorry, been getting used to it lately. So, what brings you to this end of the Centre?"

"Jarod."

The smile on Martin's face faded.

"Ah," he spoke. "You plan on stopping the nanites."

"Please, Martin, we need your help. They're destroying Jarod. He's blind, and becoming suicidal."

Martin hesitated briefly. From out of his pocket he produced a small CD. "This contains a virus that will stop the nanites. Jarod will know how to load it onto the nanites. That's as far as I can help you, please don't come back down here."

Sydney took the disk. "You will not see me again," he spoke, sensing the fear in Martin. He dropped his voice to a whisper, "If you ever need my help you know where to find me."

Sydney turned and left, pocketing the disk.

From a door behind Martin, Brigitte watched him leave. She smiled. Martin looked back to her, smiling too.


End file.
